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THURSDAY, July 19, 1945
CHAPTER 1: Scott’s early experiences with gliders and airplanes. He goes to Ft. McPherson and enlists In the regular army as a private. CHAPTER H: Scott wins the West Point competitive exam and gets a fur lough before reporting. He is graduated as a second lieutenant of infantry and goes to Europe, which he tours on a motorcycle. He sells his motorcycle and arrives at Randolph Field. Texas CHAPTER 111: Scott makes his first solo flight Drives 1,300 miles to Georgia over every week-end to see his girl. Scott is now graduated from Kelly Field and has wihgs pinned on his chest. Ordered to report to Hawaii but wanting to get married he lays his plight before the General and is ordered to report at Mitchel Field N Y.. instead. CHAPTER IV- En route to New York Scott is stopped by police who mistake him for a bandit He carries the mail for Unci? Sam in order to gain more flying time, and gets married. CHAPTER V: The waj edges closei and he is farther than ever from combat duty. He has been told he is too old for combat flying, and after December 7. 1941. he begins writing Generals all over the country for a chance to fly a flghter plane. CHAPTER VI: Scott solos a Flying Portress for the first time and makes twenty practice landings. He leaves for India from a Florida point ... CHAPTER VII: Easter Sunday to Af rica. They fly along the Arabian coast and land at Karachi. India, covering 12.000 miles to eight days. CHAPTER VID: Cot Haynes orders the group to report at a base to Eastern Assam, on the India-Burma border. CHAPTER IX: Burma is falling into the hands of the Japs. Flying over bombed and burned Chinese towns they land at Schwebo. Scott meets General Stilwell and his party. CHAPTER X: Scott’s group carries refugees out of Burma, heavily overload ing the planes. He pays a visit to Gen. Chennault and tells him he is a flghter pilot and- not a ferry pilot and is prom ised the next P-40 that arrives from Africa. CHAPTER XI: Open season on Japs— the big adventure is near. Scott gets his first Jap—an army bomber on the ground. He burns up some Jap trucks and a fuel dump. CHAPTER XII: Scott goes on some strafing missions with his “Old Ex terminator.’* as he has now nicknamed his Kittvhawk, and cuts a Jap battalion to bits. CHAPTER XIII: The AVG are told they are to be Inducted into the U. S. army. Scott returns to India and con tinues his single ship raids on the Japs. He is now known back In the States as “the one man air force." CHAPTER XIV: Col. Haynes is moved to China to head the bomber command under Gen. Chennault and Scott is left alone as commanding officer of the Ferry Command. Scott is ordered to report to Gen. Chennault in Kunming. China, as commanding officer of the 23rd Fighter Group. CHAPTER XV: Col. Scott is ordered to proceed to the Kweilin area to take charge of fighter operations. CHAPTER XVI: He intercepts a flight of Jap planes and downs a bomber. His tank is empty but he succeeds in landing it dry. CHAPTER XVII: In which Scott tells about his friend. Major “Tex” Hill, to whom he owes his lite. Maj. Alison is hit and-tries to land his crippled bomber at night CHAPTER XVIII: Maj Alison, who had crashed to the river and had been given up for lost, comes back in a sedan chair carried by admiring Chinese. Chi nese coolies and rivermen by means of a method over three thousand years old raise and salvage the sunken P-40. CHAPTER XIX: The lighter side of life to China. The fight put up by Lt. Dallas Clinger of Wyoming. CHAPTER XX: Capt. Charlie Sawyer crash-lands and is unable to identify himself. Tribesmen get set to execute him but some new arrival saves him. CHAPTER XXI: The "Old Exterml nator" gets into another fight and one more Jap will never fly again. The Kittyhawk is so badly mauled it is condemned from further use. Col. Scott gets a new P-40E. CHAPTER XXII: Another "probable" for Scott. Lt. Daniels is wounded and Maj. Bruce Holloway is shot down, but crash-lands In a rice paddy. CHAPTER XXIII: Col. Scott leaves on his greatest mission to date, with Gen. Haynes in the lead bomber. “Tex” Hill gets a Zero. CHAPTER XXIV: On the way back from Hongkong Scott sees below him Fort Stanley. British and American prison camp. A large group of prisoners wave at his ship as he goes over, and he ex periences his saddest feeling of the war. CHAPTER XXV Pilots waiting for the order to go into the air. Sitting at the crude table, waiting for the chow wagon or for an alert. Listening with keen ears for the jingle of the telephone. Playing gin rummy or poker, but hearing everything that was going on. A player would be dealing the deck, and in the middle of the rou tine of dropping a card here, and one there, the phone would ring. The card would stop in the air. poised over the table while we all heard the Chinese interpreters pick up the magneto phone and utter the famil iar “Wey—wey,” as they say “hel lo.” The card would remain there over the table, undealt throughout the telephone conversation—until the player realized what he was do ing. Then he’d go hesitatingly on. Perhaps the call was one of the hundreds that meant nothing only the Chinese really knew, and we could only wait and find out. Then again, the receiver of the telephone might drop back into place and the interpreter would say sdmething to another Chinese. This second one would go to the plotting-board, look at the marked co-ordinates, and qui etly put a little red flag down over a certain city towards Japanese ter ritory. Even then, with one warn ing only, the game could go on for a ’'■'n't tirr° in confidenc—*• GOD IS MY CO-PILOT Col. Robert L.Scott SYNOPSIS es A/ I-- W N.U- RE.LE.ASt nut as the phone kept ringing and the proximity of an attack became more certain, the game would get slower. More and more words would be left hanging in the air, more sentences would never end, nervous laughs w’ould become more frequent. You’d realize finally that you were listening to that damned telephone and to nothing else, and wishing subconsciously that you could pull it off the wall. But there would al ways be more to come, with Chinese saying “Wey, wey wey wey.” More little flags w’ould form a line on the map, and more Chinese would walk soundlessly across the room no jabbering from them—it w’as their business, and they knew when the flags got to a certain point, or quit advancing and turned back, that something would happen. Maybe at this stage someone in the game would get up to investi gate, and would come back and say, “Eighteen unknown in L-5,” or “Heavy engine noise to the East.” It might be the something that let the tension off a bit, such as, “One enemy plane over in S-15.” Thefi somebody else would grin hopefully and say, “That’s old reliable—he re ports every Perhaps the Squadron command er or the officer who was on the alert that day would move out of the game and start looking the map and the flags over, sizing up the situation. As the picture formed and it became apparent that this w’as a real attack he’d just go over and tell the card-game about it. Or maybe two or three men w’ould be gin to get helmets out. The game would silently break up, with cards and CN left where they w’ere. Hel mets and gloves would be put on. Men who were pretending to be sleeping in the bags on the floor would be awakened. And the tension dropped off like a cloak. It wasn’t the actual combat these fighter pilots feared, for we all wanted combat more than anything else it w’as the damnable uncer tainty—the ringing of a telephone, an ominous sound that most of the time meant nothing. When men went out of the door to get into their ships and take off there was no handing to friends on the ground of last letters to take care of, no entrusting of rings and watches to room-mates. For fighter pilots don’t think of not coming back. They are invincible, or think they are, and they have to be that way. Down in our hearts we may figure that some accident will get us some day, w’hen wre are old and gray, when our beards get in the way of the controls, or we get to where we don’t see well or react fast—but we know that no enemy fighter is good enough to shoot us down. If that happens it’s just an accident. These thoughts are the “chips” that we carry on our shoulders, and they have to be there—arrogant, ego tistical chips mellowed by flying technique and experience and forti fied by the motto, “Attack!” Never be on the defensive. Shoot the ene my down before he can shoot you down. You are better than he is, but don’t give him a chance. He may get in a lucky shot but you’re invincible. Move towards any dot in the sky that remotely resembles an airplane. Move to attack, with switches on and the sight ready. If it’s not a ship or if it’s a friendly one you’ll be ready anyway, and your arrogant luck will last a lot longer. The worry comes before you get to take off for combat—wondering whether or not you’ll do the right thing out of habit. After you’re in the air it’s all the fun of flying and doing the greatest job in the world. You are up there, pitying all earth bound creatures who are not privi leged to breathe this purer air on high. Your training makes you do the combat work that is ahead with out thinking about the movements. Months and years of training hours of waiting on the ground high-powered engines pulling you up and up to the attack—and then in a few fleeting seconds the combat is over, your ship is all that’s in the sky, and you’re on the way home again to base, whistling and think ing how easy it was and what a great and glorious life it really is. You’re wondering if you can pick those cards up and finish the game and take your CN back from Ajax or Johnny or Mack. You might be thinking how good that sleeping bag is going to feel, or wondering wheth er the transports that can land on the field, now that the air raid alert is over, have brought you any mail “Dog-gone, I wonder if that woman is writing me?” Maybe they’ve even made some mistake back over there in the States and have sent some new planes out here, and we’re going to get the best in the world, planes that go a hundred miles an hour faster and climb 4.500 feet a minute to fifty thousand feet. But there’s your crew-chief now, waving you in —and he’s looking at the patches you’ve shot from the blast tubes of your guns and knows you’ve fired at the enemy. Or maybe your “vic tory roll” w'arned him anyway Who knows? Day after day, through the early part of November, we actually prayed that the weather East would clear, so that we could stop our small, piddling attacks on Burma and go back to Hongkong. I knew that General Chennault and Colonel Cooper were planning a big one for the next time, for now we had the largest force of fighters we had ever seen in China. New P-40’s had been arriving snail numbers^ but steadily. The Group was actually being built up to strength at last. With the first breaks in the heavy winter clouds, Bert Carleton was sent with his transport and our ground personnel to Kweilin. Avia tion fuel and bombs were placed ready for instant use, and I could feel the tension in the air again. From the daily reports on the air warning net it could be seen that the Japanese had maintained a con stant aerial patrol over Hongkong and vicinity since our last attack. With the first break in the clouds we sent observation planes over with I A group of fighter pilots on the alert at Kunming. a top-cover of several fighters, but the Jap would not come up to fight the shark-mouthed planes. His in structions appear to have been: Wait for the American bombers. On November 21, the ground crews got to Kweilin. Instead of keeping them in the hostel that first night to insure that information would nqt leak out to the enemv, w’e sent them to town, first casually remarking that we were here now for the second attack on Hongkong. News traveled fast, as the General expected it would, via the Korean girls and prostitutes in Japanese pay. General Chennault knew that within four hours the enemy would be waiting for us to strike Victoria harbor again, for his aerial patrol over the city had doubled. Our warning net showed that. Early next morning our twelve bombers slipped into Kiveilin, with Colonel (promoted since the last at tack) Butch Morgan in the lead ship. The strengthened fighter force of between thirty and forty planes infiltrated for reservice—some went to Kweilin, others scattered to the surrounding emergency fields for better protection of the bombers. As soon as I landed I ran up to the cave and the General took me in and showed me the plotting-board. The little red flags indicated increased vigilance at Hongkong. Then I got my orders: “Strike Hongay.” In an hour the bombers were off to bomb the coal mines and docks of that Indo-China port North of Haiphong. Morgan sank a 12,000-ton ship that was reported to have been an air craft carrier. The fighter escort strafed ferry boats, small surface craft, and looked for Jap fighters trying to intercept. But none came. That night the enemy sent up a flight of three bombers to each of our fields, looking for our forces. But we were so scattered that their luck was bad. Night fighters from all stations took off, but those under Maj. Harry Pike at Kweilin made perfect contact. The entire Japa nese formation of three bombers was shot down over the field. Pike, Lom bard, and Griffin each added an en emy ship to their scores, but Lom bard was shot down in flames w’hen the Jap gunners blew up his belly tank. Lombard had made the tac tical error of pulling up over the bombers after delivering fire that shot one down. We had given him up for lost when he walked in car rying his chute—and begging for an other ship. At dawn the next day, November 23, I led the group to escort Mor gan to Sanchau Island with twelve bombers. We had noted tlfat the Japs were strengthening the air patrol over Hongkong even more. The General had smiled and said, “We’re making them waste a ter rible amount of gasoline.” We saw Morgan’s bombs take out two of the three hangars on the is land field, and we' went down to strafe and watch for interceptors taking off. Some of the flight got three, but my plane was hit by the ack-ack, and when the oil pressure began immediately to fail, I started for the mainland and home. With the oil pressure slowly going from seventy to fifty and finally to noth ing, I sweated out my return to Kweilin and just made it by men tally lifting the ship onto the strip between the jagged stalagmites that seemed to guard our field. That afternoon I led sixteen fight ers to escort our twelve bombers to Canton. Capt. Brick Holstrom, who had participated in the raid on Tokyo the preceding April, led the bombers. As the fighters kept the new tactical “squirrel cage” about his formation he deliberately cir cled to the South of Tien Ho air drome and covered the target area perfectly with his long string of bombs. The anti-aircraft was heavy and increased as we went en North over White Cloud field. I looked back at the results at Tien Ho and felt a surge of pride at that per fect bombing from fourteen thou sand feet. This was teamwork, I knew now, with bombers and fight ers properly proportioned. All of us were mad because the Japs wouldn’t come up. The bomber crews had reported them taking off from both fields and keeping low, but heading in all directions. The accurate bombing must have de stroyed many of them on the ground, for we had made a feint of continu ing on South to Hongkong. I sent one ^hip home with each bomber. The rest of us hung back and tried to tempt the enemy Zeros to come up: but they had evidently received their orders.,. THE BLtFFTOX NEWS, BLqFFTOX, OHIO Next morning Lieut. Pat Dan els got up begging the General to let him lead a dive-bombing attack on an aircraft assembly plant in Can ton. His plan was good, and the mission was made ready. All of us went down to the alert shack and watched the ground crew load ing the little yellow fragmentation bombs under the wings of six P-40E’s. A short time later they were off, with Daniels waiting to blow up the factory, and all set with his movie camera to take pictures automatically as he dove the bombs into the target. Three hours later only five of the six returned. Pat Daniels was missing in action. His wing man had seen his leader lose part of his wing in an explosion on the way in with the bombs. Anti-aircraft could have done it, but most of us agreed from the description that Daniels’ bombs might have hit his own pro peller. At the tremendous speed that a fast fighter-ship builds up in a long and nearly vertical dive, pres sures are also built up from the in creased speed. This torque ne cessitates so much compensating pressure on the rudder that one must actually stand on the rudder control. While doing this, Pat might have relaxed pressure just as he reached down to pull the bomb re lease this would have allowed the speeding plane to “J-aw” or skid, and the bombs could have struck the arc of the prop. The only note of encouragement was that a chute had been seen when the fighters left the target. Lieut. Patrick Daniels was one of our best and most aggressive pilots, and we missed him immediately —and hoped for the best. That same night, Johnny Alison led eight ships in a fighter sweep and dive-bombing attack on the docks at Hankow, over four hundred miles to the North. In the river harbor, with the sky criss-crossed by tracers from the ground, Johnny dropped his bombs on the hangars and on a large freighter. Then for ten minutes h§ stated tfce enemy vessel and badly disabled it. Caj tain Hampshire dove and shot the searchlights out until he was out of ammunition. The night attack so deep into enemy territory was a daring one and did much to confuse the Japs further. Johnny’s ships were rather badly shot up from the ground-fire, and he was lucky to get them all back to base safely. But it was such missions as these which built up the circumstances that would assure the success of the big attack the General was plan ning. Next day, with eighteen fighters, we escorted the bombers to raid Sienning, an occupied town near Hankow. We kept the circling move ment all around our B-25’s and tried to give them an added feeling of security by our presence. Through heavy anti-aircraft fire, Morgan led the attack in and didn’t waste a bomb. We left the warehouses in flames, and there was much less ack-ack coming up towards us than when we first approached. Arriving back at our advanced base, we refueled and bombed up again. Then we made the second raid of the day towards Hankow, over the town of Yoyang. Once again Morgan blasted the target, with black bursts of anti-aircraft fire bouncing around the formation. But there was no interception, and now we were feeling blue. We couldn’t destroy the Jap Air Force if they were going to try to save their airplanes. We spent the next day, Thanks giving, working on the airplanes and resting. We had flown seven missions in four days, and both men and ma chines were tired and in need of re pair. We had a special dinner that night, but remained extra vigilant against a surprise by the Jap. On that Thanksgiving evening, as we were grouped around the Gen eral, he brought out a bottle of Scotch some one h~d i nim. Mt. Cory Charles Guin of the Navy and South Pacific is home on a two week furlough visiting his mother, Mrs. Bessie Guin. Mr. and. Mrs. Cecil Roach and Donald and Susan of Cleveland are also visiting Bessie Guin. Mrs. Nettie Pitzene returned home after a two weeks visit in Lima. Mrs. Tom Hall of Dayton is visit ing Mrs. Gale Griffith and children and Nettie Pitzene. Ruth Ghaster and Chester Huber called on Mrs. Jennie Ghaster in Findlay, Sunday. Mr. and Mrs. George Quimby spent Friday in Findlay. Mrs. B. F. Sietz, Mrs. Samson Sietz and daughters Barbara and Gretchen of Lima, Mrs. Homer Clemans and children Teddy and Nancy of Harleysville, Pa., were recent guests of Mrs. Laura Guin. A tureen dinner was served at noon. The Evangelical Sunday school picnic will be held at the church on the 27th of July. Mrs. Dull Battles and children spent the past week in Akron. Ruth Ghaster called on Mrs. Laura Guin, Thursday afternoon. For Vigor and Health— include meat in your menu. Always ready to serve you. Bigler Bros. Fresh and Salt Meats That chill you felt Sunday was the real thing record cold snap for July—temperature dropped to 50 degrees early Monday and fair weather followed an all day rain on Sunday, St. Swithin’s day—which is supposed to forecast the next 40 days ... all of which proves thut all signs fail in wet weather and perhaps we shouldn’t believe in signs—excepting highway signs and that rising barometer should bring fishing out of its recent doldrums and wheat yields In the Bluffton district making farmers happy—looks like an average of 35 bushels to the acre and roasting ear time coming, with sweet corn shooting ears and boys coming back from overseas—some with dis charges and others on furlough get ting the glad handshake and final settlements being made after the Fourth of July rodeo show a neat sum available for civic improve ments and speaking of settle ments, if you haven’t already done it, better drop in at the postoffice and lay a five-spot on the line for that green auto use tax stamp for more check ups on delinquents are promised. We noted in this column recently a tale about a Bluffton merchant who said he was not superstitious— well, here’s another one we observed last Friday—the 13th—a woman who had a real case of jitters because a black cat ran across her path as she was walking down town. As far as we know, there has no evil befallen her yet. If you happen to be in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, you might stop at the state capitol and call on a former Bluffton boy who has an office there and who is rapidly rising in the administrative division of Pennsyl vania politics. It is Harold Alderfer, eldest son of the H. A. Alderfers who formerly lived on South Main street in what is now the Ed Scheele property. Alderfer is the state director of municipal affairs in the department of internal affairs—and by the .way the job is as big as the title. Thru his office he is in intimate touch with every municipality in the state which gives him a wide contact and acquaintance with town and city of fice holders. He is a specialist in municipal administration and after graduating from Bluffton college took work in this field. Besides his position at Harrisburg he is founder and execu tive secretary of the School of Local Government at nearby Penn State college. If you can’t get train reservations these days, there’s always the pos sibility of going places by air— which is what Mrs. Betty Triplett Caris did last week when she went to Jacksonville, Florida to join her husband, Lt. Richard Caris who ar rived in this country after 16 months sea duty in the Atlantic. Major portion of the trip—from Cincinnati to Jacksonville was made in four ‘hours and forty minutes. Overseas letters from Cpl. Charles Montgomery, Jr., son of Mr. and Mrs. Charles Montgomery of Orange township are a red letter event in the life of his little sister Sue. She is thrilled—not by the sights he has seen in Italy, nor his experiences in the army—but by the fact that nearly every letter contains a special gift for her—a stick of chewing gum. Scarecrows didn’t do much good in keeping birds out of his cherry trees this summer, says Verne Dardio, living south of town on the Bentley road. Verne who has a fine cherry orchard never experienced any trouble previously from birds bothering his fruit because in the middle of the orchard stood an ever bearing mulberry tree—and the birds preferred the mulberries to the cher ries. However he cut down the mulberry tree last spring. With no mulberries in sight, the birds poun ced upon the cherries with a ven geance. As a result, Verne may plant another mulberry tree to at tract the birds from his cherry trees. One is likely to run onto Bluffton people most anywhere in the world these days and when Dale Reichen bach navy physical training instruc tor landed in Guam not long ago, one of the first persons he saw was Abe Schmidt of the Seabees which meant time out to exchange the latest Bluffton gossip. Reichenbach is the son of Postmaster and Mrs. Ed Reichenbach and Schmidt the son of Mrs. Anna Klapp. Another meeting of Bluffton service men, cousins, took place in Hawaii, when Richard Augsburger and Robert Stratton spent a day and a night in Bob’s quarters at the Naval base. Good growing weather for every thing this summer—and that in cludes hollyhocks one of which has grown to a height of 10 feet and 3 inches in her garden on West Elm street, it is reported by Mrs. Fred Hahn. Just in event you are looking for a soap-making recipe we are passing this along. The housewife who turned it in says it will produce a soap that is hard and white and which floats when sufficiently cured has no offensive odor and is as easy TERMS—CASH Gas HELPS CLIPPERS KEEP BUSY SCHEDULES.:: In the new maintenance shops of Pan American World Airways at La Guardia Field, New York, aluminum parts are heat treated with GAS in a large salt bath. This installation is another tribute to the speed, flexibility, economy and precision control of this modem industrial fuel. Gas is destined to play an equally important role in the building and remodeling which lie ahead. Buy Bonds today for the all GAS kitchen you’ll want tomorrow. WEST OHIO GAS COMPANY Public Sale As I am moving to Idaho, I, the undersigned will sell at public auction at my farm, 3 miles west of Ada on Hardin-Allen county line road Tuesday, July 24, 1945 Beginning at 10 a. m. The following property: 2 HORSES—Draft team 8 and 9 yrs. old, wt. 3800. 29 CATTLE—10 head good milk cows, from heavy milking strains, Brown Swiss, Shorthorn. Jersey and Guernsey from 2 to 7 years 19 head young heifers and steers from 3 months to 2 years old also Swiss, Shorthorn. Jersey and Guernsey 2 of this number are registered Brown Swiss yearling heifers and one registered Brown Swiss bull, no relation to heifers. These were purchased to start a dairy herd and will be a real buy for someone. 40 HOGS—10 head registered Hereford sows, to farrow in August and September 9 gilts registered, to farrow in August and September registered Hereford boar 2 yrs. old 2 yearling register ed Hereford boars one fall boar 20 spring shoats. AH hogs im mlined for cholera and pneumonia. Papers will be furnished with all hogs eligible to registry. 100 Laying hens, AA-Leghorns. FARM MACHINERY A full line of farm machinery including Moline corn binder 2 wagons 2 sets double work harness Ward hammermill and electric Choreboy milking machine. 5 Dickelman hog houses brooder house 12 by 18 like new 2 hog feeders 2 hog fountains hog troughs 2 hog crates. HOUSEHOLD GOODS Majestic 7 cu. ft. electric refrigerator Kalamazoo coal and wood range Wilcox-Gay console type electric radio 6-tube Belmont console type electric radio dining table S kitchen cabinets sewing machine corn dryer 2 kitchen tables 12 chairs library table rock ing chair occasional chair linoleum rug 12 by 14 new cabinet grand piano and bench 2 piece blue velour pre-war living room suite blue 9 by 12 rug and mat made by Oriental Rug Co., hall tree rug filler for 12 by 14 room large size Ward Heatrola with new set grates lots of good glass cans 5 gal. barrel churn Vogt 75 lb. white enamel ice box stand 2 Simmons beds with inner spring mattresses 2 iron beds 3 dressers 2 Axminster 9 by 12 rugs Royal Blue electric cream separator rubber tire wheel barrow and other articles. Hay—A quantity of new baled hay: alfalfa, red clover and timothy mixed. GLEN LONG, Owner Harold McClain. Auct. Ray Long, Clerk Lunch served on grounds. PAGE SEVEN on the hands as the most expensive commercial brand. Here it is: “Measure carefully 4 bi pounds of kitchen fats into an enamel con tainer. Bring to boiling point. Empty one can of lye into a quart of water and stir with a wooden spoon or ladle until all lye is dis solved. Add one-half cup of borax and one-half cup of ammonia. Stir the fat slowly into the mixture. The result will be an emulsion resembl ing thick, sour cream. “Pour quickly into flat enameled or porcelain dish to a depth of one to two inches. Let stand for half an hour and then score with a knife (as we used to do with fudge. Re member?) In another hour the pan can be inverted and the soap remov ed. “It will look so attractive you may be in a hurry to use it. Don’t. Let it stand for at least two weeks, better a month, to cure. After this you may use the soap directly or shave into flakes. I use my vege table slicer for flaking although if you have small children you can set them to carving out animals and things and get the flakes as a by product. I did.” That solves the soap problem for all readers who have fats. We see no reason why they should not use their fats for their own soap, there by conserving the commercial supply which goes to the armed forces. Scarcity of potatoes on the market now is due principally to lack of cars for moving them from produc ing areas. California has lots of potatoes and no way to ship them.